


After Being Blue

by reminiscence



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Red & Green & Blue & Yellow | Pokemon Red Green Blue Yellow Versions
Genre: Gen, Post-Game, ffn challenge: too many cooks, re-adventure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-12 18:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 12,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7944598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reminiscence/pseuds/reminiscence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blue's defeat at the hands of Red was like no other defeat. From a Champion to nothing, he had to build himself up again - and into something new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Supper

Daisy took his sudden arrival as though he had never left home, sweeping him into the bathroom and relieving him of all but his boxers as she shoved soap and a towel into his hands. He took the hint and showered, scrubbing his scalp until it hurt in the luxury of his home. Sure, he'd stopped at a Pokemon Centre a few days ago, but he'd been in and out as fast as possible. After all, being the ex-Champion (whether the news had reached the Viridian City Pokémon Centre or not) meant that every trainer wanted at least a word with him.

At least the Nurse Joy was professional, simply taking his Pokemon, healing them and returning them with well wishes. He'd been tempted to book a room, but that would have meant bumping into at least one other "trainer" – or person who thought themselves good enough to be a trainer anyway. Even a meal had to be avoided because of that, and Blue was forced to endure his stomach's rumbling while ridding his scalp of that annoying itch. And it was strangely satisfying too, assaulting his scalp until it stung. He was still frustrated: at himself for his lost, at Red for taking the win.

Daisy had supper ready for him once he got out of the shower and into fresh clothes. And she kept up her usual stream of chatter while he ate. 'Champion life too boring?' she teased lightly. 'Or did you decide to follow in Grandpa's footsteps instead?'

'Red beat me,' Blue muttered.

'Sure he did.' Either Daisy hadn't heard him properly or she didn't believe him. 'He's only ever beaten you every time the pair of you battled since you both became trainers.'

So she had heard, and sarcasm sounded doubly scary in her voice.

'So, what's the big deal?'

Blue wanted to hit his head on the table, smash his bowl, do _anything._ Yes, Red had beaten him every bloody time they'd battled, but no battle had been important than this. He – Blue – had gotten there first. Become Champion, only to be usurped by the guy who he had, despite all, thought of as a friend before his seat could even get warm. Why was Red in such a hurry? Why couldn't Red have thought what would happen to _him_ if he lost. Red had chances if he had lost; he was just another trainer after all. But Blue had been the Champion; to lose his seat so early –

'Blue?' Daisy asked him, reaching against the table. 'Are you okay?'

'No,' he muttered angrily, shoving the mostly full bowl aside and standing up.


	2. Trade

Daisy might have been a Coordinator and therefore not as experienced in the Trainer world as her brother, but she knew a few tricks in the trade. So when Blue slunk upstairs and abandoned the cooking that every Pokémon that came to her for a grooming couldn't resist, she sent her Ninetales after him.

When he came down again and glared at her, she feigned ignorance. After all, she hadn't told her Ninetales _how_ to persuade him – she'd just told him to do so. Just as she didn't tell her brother how to battle, just to get his lazy slouching butt outside for a good fight.

It was his fault he interpreted it as a Pokemon battle, though in his defence it probably hadn't occurred to him to try and punch his sister. Considering the age difference between them, she was more of a mother-figure anyway – and their fights were settled with her cutting his privileges or spicing his food and laughing at the tears it produced.

His Blastoise roared at her Ninetales, while the fox yawned and flicked her tail. 'Vixie doesn't seem to think much of your Blastoise,' Daisy pointed out to her little brother.

He retaliated by sending a Hydro Pump in Ninetales direction.

'Power as always,' she grinned as her Ninetales dodged and sent a Confuse Ray back.

The Blastoise blasted it out of the sky with a well-aimed Hydro Pump that also managed to shower her hair.

She went all out after that, Ninetales finally bowing to Blastoise, who in turn fell from a single Aurora Beam from her Dewgong. He sent out Alakazam after that, possibly the only Pokemon who would not have a partial disadvantage against Dewong's prowess, to which she clucked and proceeded to attack with a Coordinator's full force.

She had to confess herself disappointed when Dewgong took down both Alakazam and Rhydon.

'And you're surprised Red beat you?' she asked with a raised eyebrow as her brother sullenly returned his Rhydon. In truth, she was being a little harsh – but Blue had a hard head, and she should know. She always seemed to need a jackhammer to crack it.


	3. Rush

He'd never regretted a loss with Red, despite how he might've appeared in the eyes of others. And he wasn't a glutton for failure; he battled Red because he grew stronger for it, and he enjoyed it. No-one else gave him that satisfaction, that battle-induced rush. No-one else pushed him that far.

He'd breezed through his Gym Battles; Red had struggled a bit with his own. Blue really couldn't see why. They'd met several times on the way: him returning from a Gym, Red heading there, or just looking to do some last minute training. Often, Red's last minute training would be a full-blown battle against _him_ : the perfect setting to have his mind razor sharp for battle before taking the plunge.

Sure, Blue hadn't actually managed to defeat Red yet; if nothing else, that demon of a Pikachu managed to get him. Blastoise was at a distinct disadvantage. So was Pidgeot. But Rhydon was immune, and even it had lost to Pikachu once. And that Venasaur's of Red's had withstood Blastoise's most powerful Blizzard. Sometimes, he could swear Red's Pokemon were made of totally different stuff, but then his Arcanine would wilt the giant Venasaur, and his Alakazam could wear down that behemoth of a Snorlax. Hell, even his Rhydon beat that little Pikachu most of the time, and often it was a close match. A close, thrilling match.

But it wasn't like that when they battled for the title. Maybe because of why he battled: to defend a title that was still tender in his hold. Maybe it was Red, acting like nothing had changed – after the brief surprise Blue had managed to spring on him. Or maybe it was Blue, nervous because he'd never actually beaten Red in battle before. Nervous because his Grandfather was on his way to congratulate his position as Champion – and Red had somehow gotten there first.

He definitely regretted that lost .Part of him wondered if he'd truly fought his best. If he hadn't been unconsciously pulled back because of his doubts, his fears – those things that had never mattered before.

But it didn't matter in the end, did it? He'd lost; Red had won. Red was now Champion, and Blue was just a big flop.


	4. Obsidian

His sister brought him a black jacket. To "match your eyes", she said.

Blue didn't even know when Daisy had gone to Celadon City and come back. He just knew she tossed the jacket, still smelling of leather and department stores, onto his bed and told him to take a shower and dress up.

He did so meekly, slipping into the brown pants and white dress shirt she'd left for him, wondering if his sister had an engagement he'd forgotten about. It turned out she had, and the next hour or so left him victim to her make-up skills. Those weren't bad, but he was a guy after all and didn't like being treated like a doll.

It couldn't be helped. Daisy was a formidable opponent no matter what he was fighting her for – or with: words, fists or Pokemon. She'd been a Top Coordinator in her time after all, and now she was Professor Oak's research assistant.

And anyone who said she got that position by way of blood relations earned whatever broken bone Daisy was liable to give them. Daisy had earned her place, and she wouldn't let anyone else tell her different.

She also wouldn't let Blue tell her he didn't need his hair jelled (never mind he'd done so almost every day for the last three years of his life except the last few where all he'd really done was laze around in bed) or his hair trimmed (because he'd gotten a cut before challenging the Elite Four because he'd wanted to look his best) or a bowtie (because it looked absolutely ridiculous on him, and it didn't go with the more casual looking jacket anyway).

But Daisy had a better sense of style than that. She'd just been teasing him. And distracting him. Because he'd totally forgotten to ask _where_ they were going in dressy but still casual clothes, and it hadn't occurred to him that it would be somewhere he _really_ didn't want to be (since he didn't want to get out of his room anyway) until he was standing beside Daisy ringing the bell to their grandfather's laboratory with her Delcatty and Espeon behind them so he couldn't escape.


	5. Digimon

'Why couldn't Pokemon just stay in computers,' Blue found himself grumbling as he threaded his way through his grandfather's backyard in his stuffy new suit. It was large and spacious and beautiful and as a kid he'd loved playing there.

But now it was painfully overcrowded with Pokemon. His Pokemon…and Red's. And people…but Pokemon tended to take up extra room. Especially when Pokemon were the likes of Rhydon and Blastoise and Pidgeot and Arcanine and Exeggutor and Alakazam and Machamp and Tyrannitar and Gyarados…

And Red's Snorlax. That big tub of fat that even Machamp with its distinct type advantage struggled against who now snoozed happily under a berry tree. And there was an Eevee bouncing on its stomach as well.

Blue was pretty sure it wasn't his Eevee. It was much too small. So it was probably Red's.

He hadn't even known Red _had_ an Eevee.

He wasn't sure why he was feeling cut up about that either. Or why he wanted to hide in a corner away from his Pokemon as they lay about.

But of course he'd trained his Pokemon better than that, and a nuzzle to his leg from his Eevee and a call to the other Pokemon brought them all to the tree he'd been leaning against.

And their chattering, even though he couldn't understand their different languages, was as plain as day.

'We lost,' he snapped finally, annoyed. 'We were there, at the top of the world, and we lost.'

Yes, they were all disappointed. Their eyes were a tired red. Their mouths were set lines.

But then Machamp punched a nearby rock hard enough to crack it and Blue plainly saw the difference between them and him.

'Challenge him again?'

Even Eevee roared its agreement. His grandfather's guests looked towards them. Even they could feel the energy building up. Blue was sure if he disagreed Rhydon would skewer him with its horn – or Machamp would punch him or Gyarados would bite him or Pidgeot would peck the life out of him or some combination – and he didn't plan on dying at the hands of his Pokemon. Not at all.

They'd all get stronger. And they'd get back to the top of the world again.


	6. Unexpected

Blue stared.

Red's smirk melted a little as he stared back.

'Let me get this straight,' he said finally. 'You want to take over Indigo.'

Red snorted. 'I'm already at the top of Indigo,' he pointed out. 'I'm its figurehead, it's _Champion_. But because I'm just a kid…uurgh.' He broke off in annoyance, throwing his arms up. 'I've already explained this.

He had. That didn't stop the incredulous expression on Blue's face. They'd been joking about it just a few minutes ago, but this – this was serious. 'This is coming from the kid who dreamed about being a Champion.'

'So did you,' Red said flatly. 'And lucky you, not seeing what it really was.'

Blue scowled at that. It might have been a blow beneath the belt. It might not have been. Depended on what Red really meant – and Blue felt Red was being very slippery right then. If Blue said a wrong word, Red would just vanish – or just lose it…

Truthfully, Blue didn't like the way Red had said "we can wipe them out easily."

'What did you mean?' he asked, maybe a little tentatively, but curious. Still curious. 'By "wipe them out"?'

Red shrugged. He didn't look like he'd thought the idea through too well – but who knew. Maybe he had. Maybe he'd just skipped that little bit because Red was just too soft…

Except Red was the one who'd kicked him off the Champion's throne before he'd had a chance to get comfortable.

Then again, listening to Red, it was like the other had done him a favour.

'You've lost it,' Blue said finally, flatly. 'The whole reason they're walking all over you is because you're a kid. What else can you do?'

'That's why I need your help.' Red sounded frustrated now. _Was_ frustrated now. Or he'd been frustrated for a long time, that time Blue had been wallowing in self-pity and his loss.

'I lost to you,' Blue said finally – and a little flatly.

' _Once_ ,' Red pointed out. 'We're still equals. We're still the best.'

Blue wondered how Red had come out with his ego. Had he let it on the Champion's chair?

Besides, it wasn't once. It was every single time they battled. Even if that one had been the most important match between them.

'You're crazy,' he sighed, shaking his head. 'Can't help you.'

Red frowned and turned away, offering a hand to his pokemon. Eevee sprinted up to his shoulder. Pikachu glared at Blue before hopping on to the other one. 'I guess we're on our own.'

Part of Blue wanted to stop Red from leaving. Yell "surprise" or something stupid like that. Then again, Red was the one being stupid. Or Blue. Or both of them.

Red might be out of his mind, but he was right about the corruption. And taking them on all by himself was typical Red. He _was_ the guy who'd taken down Team Rocket after all.

But he was wrong about Blue being his equal.

_'You lost to him because you're missing something important.'_ His grandfather had said that when he lost his seat. Blue had been angry and hurt then, but now...

He had to find that important thing first. No-one who didn't have _that_ could help Red take down the League.'


	7. Refrain

He was pretty sure Lance wasn't expecting him any time soon.

He had to thank his grandfather's Dragonite. Granted, his grandfather didn't know _where_ he'd needed a dragon Pokemon to carry him to. He'd caught a lot of Pokemon during his time, but not one of those.

He didn't think the old man would be disappointed though.

Lance might have been though, when he opened the door to find Blue on his doorstep and Professor Oak's Dragonite vanishing into the distance.

'I've set my ride back,' Blue said.

'I see you have.' Lance watched the shadow disappear behind some clouds. 'Why have you come?'

Lance was always blunt. Blue liked that. He was sure Red liked that too.

In fact, Blue had a sneaking suspicion he was now acting on.

'I'd like to hear about your reign as champion.' When Lance opened his mouth, he quickly added: 'specifically how powerful – or powerless – you felt.'

Lance closed his mouth, frowned, and glanced at the sky again. 'Come in,' he said.

Blue did.

**.**

Lance didn't seem like a tea person somehow. Or the sort to go through the long ceremony instead of answering a question asked of him. But Blue let him. The body said a lot of things as well – and who knew? Maybe the tea came from being a Champion.

But if Red ever served him a cup of traditional-style tea, he was tossing it in the other's face.

He couldn't say he knew Lance well enough to treat him the same.

'It seems odd, doesn't it?' Lance commented, once he was sipping his own tea. 'I assume Red's told you?'

'You could say that,' Blue said carefully. 'Some things speak for themselves.'

Granted, Red _had_ literally smacked him in the face with it – but he wasn't sure it was a good idea to tell a member of his Elite four (and the ex-Champion to boot) that information. Especially if they didn't feel the same.

'It's crap.'

Blue blinked. Lance's bluntness was back.

That was better. He could talk like that.

'And you didn't do anything about it?' It wasn't an accusation. Just curiosity.

Lance smiled grimly. 'You need powerful friends to pull off a coup-de-tat. Not just a pretty little throne at the top.'

Red had said as much as well.

'I take it Red spoke to you first?'

Lance chuckled somewhat bitterly at that. 'No. What we exchanged was on the battlefield.'

Blue felt his own lips twist into a frown. He remembered some battles. Not all of them. He remembered the Elite Four. And Lance. And Red; he remembered every battle he ever lost and he could count them on both hands.

'Do you feel like a failure?' he asked.

'And now we come to the crux of the matter.' Lance took another sip of tea. 'You, me, Red – we're not the type to dwell on the past. But there are still lessons to be learnt from it. But you lack something more important than that.'

Blue waited. Lance did not expand. 'What do I lack?' he finally asked. 'My grandfather said the same.'

'What you lack is something you need to find yourself,' was Lance's reply. 'My suggestion is to retrace your steps. Look at things you missed before.'

Somewhat cryptic, but something plain as well. A direction for him to start. Blue drained his tea and stood. 'Thanks,' he said bluntly. 'I suppose I'll be challenging you again.'

Lance nodded. 'And maybe this time, we'll have our own conversation on the battlefield.'


	8. Comfort

Retracing his steps – that meant starting off against the Pewter Gym. That'd been one of the easiest of them: a gym geared towards beginners and with a blatant weakness against his starter pokemon. Now that Squirtle was a Blastoise and it would be even easier to triumph.

Which made him wonder if he really should use his Blastoise in that match. That would be too easy.

But all his Pokemon were roughly at the same level. Any of them would steamroll the Pewter Gym he'd challenged in the past.

He may as well go with the team he'd gone with in the past – or their fully evolved forms now, as it was. And they were Blastoise and Nidoking.

'Welcome again,' said the gym leader as Blue walked up to him. 'I hear you defeated the Elite Four and Lance.'

'I've come to challenge you again,' said Blue, ignoring the statement. 'Two on two.'

Brock considered him, then nodded. 'It's rare for the victors to return, but I'll grant you your match.'

But instead of standing in the trainer's box, he turned and walked through a door. Blue gave him a moment, and he returned with two Pokemon in hand. 'Your serious team?' Blue asked. Of course, a weak person wouldn't become a Gym Leader. But at the same time, someone like him who always strove for victory would also not.

'Indeed.' Brock tossed one ball. A Golem came out. 'My strongest pokemon who raised this gym with me.'

Blue sent out Nidoking. The two fully evolved Pokemon stared each other down. Blue began thinking. Both their Pokemon had partial ground characteristics, but his also had a weakness to it. And no doubt Golem knew earthquake: the most powerful ground type move of them all. There was little place to hide with that.

At the same time, there was the fighting moves Nidoking could learn. Back then, it'd been Double Kick. Now it was Dynamic Punch. Dynamic Punch and Earthquake. And the less effective moves.

Brock handed the first move to him. He made a soft one: one to lure the other into attack. That was his way of battling. Cool and calculating. The response was equally grounded, equally firm. For someone with a type advantage over the gym, his first gym battle hadn't been an easy one. None of them had been.

But he'd won them all.

And this time…

The field trembled and broke apart. Horns and fists and claws and rock clashed in the centre, in the dust. Earthquake crashed with earthquake and Blue almost bit his bottom lip off in trying to stay upright. Brock did not. Perhaps he frequently fought on fields that trembled in the wake of Earthquakes. Or maybe that meditation he practised had something to do with it.

Blue was a strategist, but not particularly patient.

Nidoking's final Dynamic Punch knocked Golem out of the match.

And then it was Onix. Not the almost baby-sized snake Brock had played against him a year before, but one far far larger. With one flick of its tail Nidoking was knocked off balance. A second sent him flying, unconscious, into the wall behind them.

Blastoise was bigger than Nidoking and had two advantages. He had no inherent weakness to the large rock snake, and he'd taken no damage yet this fight. But Onix still proved to be formidable.

In the first match, Rapid Spin had been a poor defence and Bubble slow at causing damage. Now he had Hydro Pump: the most powerful water type attack, and Blizzard, likewise for the ice type. It was impossible to dodge the effects and yet dodge and even Protect trembled.

But the advantage was overwhelming and even if the direct attacks were dodged, the indirect change in the air finally wore Onix down.

He won. Again.

And all he'd really learnt was the gym leader had a post-league team – or maybe it was used after the challenging trainer had won a certain number of badges or something like that.


	9. Joke

Red had lost it. Or he'd finally learnt the finer points of a well-played prank and Blue was suffering for it. And, honestly, the first of those were more likely.

He wasn't supposed to show up out of nowhere – or the league, really – prattling on about a rebellion. Not that it wouldn't be cool. And adventure. But adventures were Red's style, not Blue's.

Hence why Red was the one who brought it up. Even if there was no way he'd make it through one. He was too naïve. Too trusting. Too determined to see the good, the possibilities –

But that was all wrong, wasn't it?

Red wasn't supposed to stand at the top of the League either. That was no place for an idealist.

Maybe that's why he wasn't one anymore. Or maybe he was. Maybe tearing the League down was his way of following that idealism. Because Blue might've made that sort of sarcastic mark and let Red run with it a bit before confessing the joke but Red was too straight-forward, to passionate, for something like that. His idea of a joke was juvenile – sneaking up on someone and making some loud noise. He didn't get those finer points. And maybe that was why he could dream big and believe. Maybe that was why he was an idealist while Blue was the realist of the two.

A year ago, idealism was walking along a dirt road, battling amateur trainers and getting stronger and dreaming of the day they'd challenge the league. Idealism was winning and losing and lamenting on the losses, was struggling through every Gym match and taking something more valuable than a badge away in return. Idealism was the dreams they'd both nurtured, but of the two of them Red had been more likely to fail, and more likely to push on.

And Red won and Blue lost, and Red was at the top of the League like he'd wanted and realised it wasn't as glamourous as it seemed while Blue hadn't had that chance. He'd fallen too quickly, and now he wondered in the snow, wondered after a dream he didn't really have anymore, wondered after a part of himself he couldn't see, wondered after Red's new dream.

Maybe Lance was right. Maybe he'd find the answer retracing him steps. Or maybe it'd be a total waste of time. Who knew, maybe it was a ploy by Red to make him bored enough to agree with his insane idea. Or maybe he'd see it wasn't so insane after all. Maybe he'd see a way to make it work.

Because he hadn't got a clue how two kids were supposed to rip up a government when one of them was at the top of the region and yet just a figurehead, and the other was yesterday's news. SO yesterday, in fact, that not many people recognised him. Brock had. When he called ahead to book a battle at the Cerulean Gym (he didn't want a repeat of last time where the Leader had been out on a date when he'd arrived; at least Red had been fortunate to show up in the city in the aftermath of a break-in instead), Misty had. And she'd promised him something special. Her true team, like Brock had used his, probably. And maybe she'd be better prepared because she was forewarned.

He supposed he'd see when he got there. And when what he was looking for kindly smacked him in the face – or when this revolution of Red's either was tossed out, confessed to have been said in jest, or became a reality, or he became a part of it instead of it trying to eat out of a part of his brain.

Really, Red was one of the few who could get words to stick themselves to him like parasites. Even if he hadn't been in that category for very long.


	10. Blackwash

He'd gone out of his way to see Lance. Agatha, on the other hand, was a surprise meeting.

He'd been on his way to Saffron city. He'd been pleasantly surprised the first time round to learn that Red had taken quite a bit longer to get there – but disenchanted to learn it was because the guards had set up a temporary blockade and he'd detoured to Vermillion instead. Then again, they'd met on the SS. Anne so Red had definitely been behind.

But Red wasn't retracing his steps. And the guards weren't complaining of thirst and other things and nobody was stopping him from walking through the gate.

Except a very familiar Gengar staring at him as he emerged in the light. One that made his heart skip a few beats before his mind caught up.

Agatha cackled as she hobbled out from behind her pokemon. 'You youngsters just grow more foolish, don't you?'

Blue adopted a neutral expression and raised an eyebrow. 'Has Red done something to earn your ire?'

The old woman cackled again. 'You can say that?' Her face grew serious. 'Are you aware of his intentions? His…dissatisfaction with how things are now?'

Blue considered the woman. She and her ghost stared back: two pairs of eyes boring into his soul. He nodded.

'He is stirring up a hornet's nest,' Agatha said. 'Foolish child doesn't understand just how complex the world is. Thinks a little teenage rebellion will have things the way he wants it.'

'I'm a foolish child as well, in your eyes.' Blue raised an eyebrow, though he couldn't deny Agatha was quite daunting, especially with her Gengar backing her up. 'Why complain to me?'

Her lips curled. 'Do you want a war?'

'No.' The thinkable answer fell off his lips before he could consider it.

'You say that and yet you know no war.' Her lips twisted. Perhaps it was a smile. Perhaps not. He thought it was something else. A warning. 'If you don't, you might want to stop your rival from doing something you'll regret.'

'I'll regret?' Blue repeated. 'Not Red?' He didn't argue about the rival bit. That was a bit more personal. And less relevant.

'Oh,' and her eyes glittered strangely in the afternoon light. 'I don't think he'll regret it in the long run. No…'


	11. Unpaid

Agatha's meeting was sort of like an omen. Before he quite knew it, he was turning left past the gate to Saffron and was heading towards Vermillion instead. Maybe it was that almost prophetic tone. Sabrina was prone to the same.

He passed through the underground tunnel and remembered the little girl who'd lost something along the way. He hadn't stopped to help: he'd been too fired up about the upcoming gym battle and thinking that someone careless enough to lose something should go through the effort of finding it himself.

Now he felt slightly differently. If only because he was searching blindly for something himself and was unable to find it, but he felt different nonetheless.

And he hadn't heard anything from Red either, which was an oddity. Last time, they'd practically been tripping over each other at every town. Then again, Red was the Champion now. He probably had better things to do than challenge all the Gyms again – unless that was a Champion's duty or something. He wasn't sure. He didn't know because no-one had read the rulebook to him before Red's challenge had come. He hadn't even gotten comfortable.

And then Red won and took over the Championship and it was no longer Blue's business what a Champion had to say or do, because he wasn't it. He didn't even get his first pay check. In a way, he could say he'd never been the Champion. He wasn't in the Hall of Fame either, after all. And those sorts of things were the important stuff. The lasting stuff. Sure, the Gym Leaders and the Elite Four knew, but that was it. Oh, and Red. And some administrative people he'd probably never see again…

But to everyone he passed on the road, he was just a regular trainer with strong Pokemon that demolished almost everyone who challenged them. It wasn't like the thrill of travelling the first time round, catching new pokemon and battling people who were roughly his level – but even back then, he'd won most of the time. The bitter taste of defeat was one he'd barely sampled, before that Championship match.

But just winning again wasn't cure enough. Unless he rechallenged the league and Red for his title – and Red might just throw the match to get himself out of the job he wasn't too keen on doing. But Red just wasn't that person. He fought to win every battle regardless of the outcome, because he was just that sort of battler. He was just that passionate. And he wanted to change the League from within and no-one was paying him to do that – hell, there were few who'd thank him for that at all. People liked stable lives. People, old people like his grandfather, still remembered the war. People like Surge who'd become one of the names and faces of the war.

Blue wondered if he still had the pokemon he'd fought in that war with. Maybe those would provide a challenge, because they had to be strong, to win a war. And the trainer behind them had to be tough as well?

He'd answered Agatha's question so easily, that he didn't want to get involved in a war. But was that the truth? Hadn't he been somewhat eager to help Red in his insane goal? Or was that only because it was a challenge, an _excuse_ –

Then again, he wasn't accomplishing much in his little walkabout. Though maybe it was just that and not Agatha and her creepy Gengar and speech that saw him detour to Vermillion even with the gates to Saffron now open.

Or maybe it was just fated timing, because Vermillion was in a panic when he entered it.


	12. Derangement

Surge looked like a different man when battling. Many people did. People like his grandfather who looked like a gentle old man most of the time. But Surge didn't have that excuse. He didn't look gentle, period. And yet he managed to look a new level of ferocious in his first gym battle. Blue had almost lost to him, because he'd been so confident his Wartortle's defence would have been able to withstand any physical attack.

His trip to Vermillion taught him that Surge had another level of ferociousness buried away. And this one came out when he was in army mode, fighting to defend the city and the port.

Ordering his pokemon to fry the port too, it sounded like. He was a strategist, but not that deranged. That was Red's job, coming up with harebrained schemes that still managed to work. Frying the port water with electricity sounded like a Red scheme. Particularly when there was no way four electric pokemon would be able to dry up the port when the ocean fed it.

Though he supposed they didn't need to go _that_ far. The boats in question were pretty close. He could make out their silhouettes behind the curtain of yellow. And while it lasted, they'd get next to nothing through. No flying or water pokemon. No earth or ground pokemon that, despite having a resistance, wouldn't last minutes in the water. His Aerodactyl might make it through, though. It was a rare flying rock after all. But he was on this side of the curtain and really had no reason to try.

Until he noticed one of the ships smoking, about to blow.

'What are you doing?' Surge roared, when he called out his Aerodactyl and sent it off.

'There could be people on board,' Blue snapped, 'and pokemon. This isn't a war!'

'A kid's answer,' the man grumbled. 'This is too a war, kid. But let's see what your Aerodactyl can salvage.'

Nothing attacked it in the air. It dipped down, plucked something from one of the decks and rose a safe distance into the sky before all three ships blew in succession.

Blue sincerely hoped there hadn't been anyone on board them.

.

There had been people on board. Rockets had hijacked cargo ships from Olivine Port in Johto. The rockets had come prepared, too, wearing electric proof suits and diving into the water. Once the electric pokemon had stopped feeding the water so the rescuers could go out, they shot away on their water pokemon. The Tentacool pursued, but Blue wondered how far they'd get. And whether those Rockets could really swim all the way back to Johto.

The sailors and their pokemon, then, had taken the heavier toll. And their cargo, but they were poke balls. Strong enough to withstand the force of the explosion, even if the boxes wound up completely waterlogged. Aerodactyl had snatched up a Poliwhirl and two Poliwag – but that was three pokemon across four ships that had been spared damage. The others were seriously injured. Nurse Joy wasn't even sure she could save them all.

And Surge was unrepentant. 'You have to be tough, kid,' he schooled. 'Say those ships were carrying bombs. We let them through. That's our whole city and the caves on either side gone, and we wouldn't even know until we're bits of scrap flying in the breeze.'

'So the end justifies the means.' That sounded like the League, like what Red despised about the League. He's the puppet-head and they do what they want in the background, saying it's best for Kanto in the end and they should all behave and follow it.

'Sounds like you're learning,' Surge recalled his pokemon. 'If you came for a battle, you'll have to wait.'

'I did, actually.' But he didn't think he wanted to wait. He didn't need to fight Surge to learn something from the city. He'd already gained his lesson. 'I think I'll move ahead.'

'Your loss,' he shrugged.

He didn't think he'd lose anything at all.


	13. Conspiracy

Celadon City was the next gym, but last time, he'd taken quite a few detours to get there. He'd obtained the HM Cut, which meant he could finally get into the back room Pewter Museum of Science. That's how he'd gotten his Aerodactyl regenerated.

And then there was Lavender Town, the town of ghost pokemon and the tower where every trainer buried their dead. Not that he had any dead. He bypassed it this time. There were no rumours floating about this time to prompt him, no ghost of Marowak wrecking havoc because Team Rocket had seperated it from its child in the worst possible way.

And he didn't fancy another walk by the ocean, either.

He went on straight to Celadon.

.

Celadon City was muted. It was strange, because even when Team Rocket had been in control, the city had been one of the liveliest he'd come to know.

And there was no-one on the streets this time at all. No pokemon in the grass and he's searched, because while he'd caught his Arcanine as a Growlithe in the area, he never did find a Vulpix. But forget Vulpix. He couldn't even find a Pidgey in broad daylight.

He knocked on the door of the first house he saw. No answer, but the curtains on the second story twitched. Something had frightened the citizens, then.

He tried the Pokemon Centre next. It was closed, but the door to the house behind it was unlocked. He thought it suspicious at first, but it turned out the old man inside was simply getting along in years and didn't know the meaning of "untrustworthy."

It also turned out he talked a lot. Which turned out to be a blessing in a city with every other door locked. Though Blue wondered as to his sanity, at first. Team Rocket back and trying to take over the town? But then he remembered the port. There'd been Rockets there too, and somehow, it had entirely slipped his mind to question why.

Team Rocket had been defeated. He helped, but it was mostly Red. Red beat them all, and thanks to him, Giovanni had turned over a new leaf and disbanded.

Maybe Red had been too naive, then. He was tempted to go straight back to Viridian City and peek in at the gym there. But he was already in Celadon. He should clear Team Rocket out of there, shouldn't he?

Or maybe it wasn't naivity. But that was ridiculous. Red had no reason to cut Team Rocket loose. Except he had one. His complaints about the Champion seat. About the league. But would he really go this far?

He entertained the Know-it-all man until he'd gleaned their location from them. Taking up roost in their old hide-out, beneath the Game Centre. But going around to the gym every day.

He could knock off two birds with one stone by going to the gym, then. And the next time he met Red, he was going to beat some answers out of him.


	14. Miasma

If Celadon City was muted in fear, the Gym was choking on its source.

He knocked and pushed open the doors. A Raticate snapped at his heels and he kicked at it.

That certainly hadn't been in the greeting, last time. And no wonder. Once he'd managed to loosen a ball and toss it (Exeggutor: appropriate in a grass-type gym) and his Pokemon was distracting the other, he saw the black uniforms between the shrubs.

Team Rocket again. Of course it was them. And they were sending out more Pokemon when Raticate was blasted by a single Egg Bomb. Golbat and Crobat that were easily taken down by Psychic (and really, had they forgotten Exeggutor was part psychic?) and more Raticate that Exeggutor just blew away with a Leaf Storm.

And he mangled the shrubs, but it would get Erika up and about, fixing the mess.

He moved slowly through. The shrubs were too thick even with the chaos of Air Slash, Wing Attack and Leaf Storm cutting them down. And the gym was _crawling_ with Rocket grunts. Pathetically weak, the lot of them, but numerous anyway. And painfully respective, though he saw a Vileplume or few, and a Houndoom as well. Exeggutor far supposed it in level though.

Though they still tried to stop him from getting further into the gym. Now why was that?

He pushed through them and marched ahead anyway. Last time, Erika had been asleep at the back of the gym. There'd been two assistants with her too. Now… he could see the 'R' on black rocket shirts, but behind them was definitely not a kimono.

Instead, whoever was sitting there looked to be wearing blue jeans as well.

'Move,' Blue snapped at the two Rockets still in his way.

They threw their Poke-balls. A Houndoom and a Machoke.

'Psychic! Egg bomb!'

'Reflect!'

Now who the hell was using Reflect? Neither of those two could.

It took a moment later for the voice to click. 'What in Arceus' name are you doing here, Red?' he exploded.


	15. Bite

He was seething. But Red was always good at finding the buttons to push with him and pushing them _hard_. And, unfortunately, when he was angry, he didn't think very well.

Red wanted a battle? Then he was damn well going to get one. 'Exeggutor!' he snapped. 'Return!'

Espeon yowled. The coconut tree stomped and made the dirt fly up before it was recalled into the red light of its poke ball, but more than about the matchup, it was the fact that Exeggutor had been battling a long time and was out of moves – and he'd never planned to use a grass type Pokémon against the grass type gym leader anyway, so he hadn't brought an ether.

He hadn't been about to use Arcanine either. That'd been a cakework the first time around. On the other hand, Arcanine would love the idea of chasing Red's little fox around. And Bite wouldn't hurt if he needed an ace in the hole. Choice made, he enlarged the poke ball. 'Arcanine, go!'

Red snorted, and then curled into full-blown laughter. 'A fire type in a grass gym! How lovely. The sparks can catch fire and burn this place to the ground. Won't Erika be pleased?' Then, ignoring the curtesy of battle, he ordered a Future Sight.

Blue frowned. Future Sight was a new move in his arsenal and a pain in the butt. He'd need to keep an eye out for that. 'Flame Thrower!'

'Quick Attack!' And as Espeon jumped nimbly out of the way before coming in for an attack, Blue cursed the reminder of the grass type gym. He very well could set the gym on fire. And no way Bite was going to catch it if Extreme Speed couldn't. 'Dig!' he ordered.

Arcanine burrowed under the ground. Espeon landed on its feet and waited patiently. 'Where's Erika?' Blue asked, instead of ordering his next move.

'Why don't you find her?' Red said in return. 'After all, gym overrun by Rockets… She might be in _big_ trouble…' But he was smiling as he said it.

'You never did take pleasure in others' pain,' Blue muttered. The sheer oddity of that dimmed his anger a bit. Red was being an idiot, as always. But there was something else, some reason he'd wanted Blue mad, wanted a fight.

'Aren't you going to do anything?' Red was frowning now. Maybe he could see the barbs he'd stuck into skin were falling out. 'Iron Tail!'

…wasn't it his Pikachu who knew Iron Tail. But Espeon slammed its tail into the ground and made it shake, and Arcanine howled in pain.

'Dammit,' Blue muttered. Arcanine was at a disadvantage on the surface with Espeon's extrasensory abilities as well. Arcanine hadn't been a good choice at all. 'Come – ' He stopped. Red and Espeon were waiting for something. Waiting… Red raised an eyebrow as their eyes met. _Is that all you've got?_

What did it matter right then what the backdrop was. They'd had plenty of battles before. Even for the seat of Champion and it hadn't mattered one bit until he lost.

 _I've got a whole lot more, and it's coming at you._ 'Use Flame Charge!'

'Flame _what?_ ' Red asked, but he got his answer as the ground burned red and threw dirt and debris.

'Flame Charge,' Blue repeated smugly. 'New TM. Guess you haven't been keeping up with this stuff.'

'No,' Red agreed, though he had a vaguely impressed look on his face. 'Is Arcanine getting faster?' Espeon wasn't dodging as easily now.

'That's right,' Blue said, and wasn't this a wonderfully familiar feeling? The two of them having a typical rival battle, him with the smarts and Red with his fiery passion… 'Flame Charge is a physical attack that increases speed as well. And Espeon can only keep up so far. It can't use Iron Tail or a psychic attack at these speeds, either. You're down to just Quick Attack.'

'Quick Attack isn't the only thing in this game,' Red grinned.

Future Sight fell from the sky and struck them both, kicking up more dust and – _smoke_?

He really _did_ set the gym on fire, trying to catch that Espeon of Red's.

Damn his pride for not using Bite or Pidgeot from the outset. And damn Red for making such a mess of things.

And damn Red thrice over for baiting him – even if he was the one who'd walked right into that even with a teaser warning.


	16. Uncontrollable

The fire was out of control. So was Arcanine, and that wasn’t saying anything about Red who simply recalled his beaten Espeon with a grin. ‘Here you are,’ he said, simply. ‘What’ll it take to keep you this time, I wonder. My title?’

‘Red,’ Blue said with gritted teeth. ‘You might be my best friend, but I’m this close to calling out Blastoise to knock you out.’ And the fire. Of course the fire. That was why he had Blastoise’s poke ball in his left hand, while trying to return Arcanine with his right. Except the fire that enveloped that canine – Flare Blitz, why Flare Blitz – made the red light fizzle out.

There was nothing for it. ‘Blastoise! Hydro Pump!’ _Ignore Red. He’s not stupid enough to call out another –_

‘Thunder!’

He was. And that damn Pikachu with the Light Ball as well. And the Thunder that never missed, even if it shouldn’t have been possible without Rain Dance to augment it.

It hit Arcanine, Blastoise, and the Hydro Pump aiming for the heart of the fire. The Gym exploded and the force knocked him down.

When he crawled to his knees with the help of a charred Blastoise shell, choking on sodden ash and seeing in shades of red, Red was gone. There were only Rockets robed in black and covered with as much ash as he and something paler. Orange…or has the explosion damaged his sight?

No, it was orange, and the sky was orange with the setting sun as well. Blastoise was blue, and there were flashing lights in the distance. From Saffron? Vermillion? They sure as hell weren’t Celadon’s Police. And where even was Celadon’s Police?

Orange powder. Stun spore, then. But not on him, nor his Blastoise. He brushed himself down just in case. Arcanine was paralysed though. Paralysed and unconscious. And after all of that power, that uncontrollable power…

Red was just the same as Arcanine, and some idiot had loaded the guy with the most powerful TMs on the market.

Oh wait. That idiot was him, losing the Champion’s seat. But if it did this to Red who always stood up after being beaten down, what would it have done to him?

But Red wasn’t here. Someone else was, or had been. Someone whose pokemon could use Stun Spore. He stood fully, knees shaking, and recalled Arcanine. Blastoise groaned. He left him out. He needed _a_ pokemon around all of these Rockets and Blatoise could fire off a Skull Bash half asleep if he had to.

He caught a shadow in the trees. Long. Petaled. A Vileplume, but with the sun almost gone, there was no telling how big it was. And then it was gone before he could step towards it, and he’d never find out.

He hightailed it out of there instead. Got to Saffron after three days on the road and feeling the worst he’d ever felt (because burning a gym to the ground and seeing everything so out of control definitely trumped getting his backside handed to him by Red). And Saffron was playing news coverage.

He watched it till the end, because he owed them that. Over twenty Rockets arrested. Five dead. And Erika and a handful of her gym trainers were missing. Presumed dead.

Of course, they didn’t know Red had been in the gym. Or him. They didn’t know that Erika hadn’t been…or maybe she had and he just hadn’t seen her. The Rockets had stolen his eyes. Them and Red. Erika could have easily tucked herself away, out of sight.

Until her gym burned. Until there was no-where else to hide.

But why still hide, three days later.

Red was the one who wanted to shake Kanto to its core, but Blue had just killed a gym leader.

 


	17. Unlive

Blue didn’t know what to do with himself.

Last time, Saffron had been crawling with Team Rocket grunts. But this time, it had been Celadon. Last time, it had been Giovanni on his throne. This time Red. Last time, it was Red running around trying to stop them. This time…

Well, he wasn’t really trying to stop Team Rocket.

He wasn’t trying to stop anyone, really. He was –

What was he even doing?

‘That is something you need to decide, and soon.’

He jumped.

He’d avoided the gym. So Sabrina had come to him. Dressed in black instead of her usual red and green.

                ‘I – ‘ he began, then stopped himself. He didn’t know what he was asking. Or why.

                ‘You’re lost,’ Sabrina said quietly. They both watched the busy city people blur by. ‘Red pushed you too far.’

Blue glanced sharply at her. ‘Do you agree with him?’ he snapped. ‘After –‘ _What he did? What I did? What we did together?_

                ‘Fire and air are an interesting combination,’ she replied instead. ‘Fire needs air to burn, but air can just as easily blow fire out – or scatter the blames and make it grow, more and more… And as for fire, it can suck all the air out like a vacuum as its fuel or it can be choked by it. Which wins? Which is supposed to win?’

                ‘…are you saying Red and I are like fire and air?’

                ‘Aren’t you?’ Sabrina didn’t smile as her eyes met his. Instead, they were stone: flat and tired. ‘I want the world to change. These politics and this way of life that chokes us. It’s already changing, but it hasn’t changed enough. And truthfully, it doesn’t matter which of you winds up on top of the world as long as the foundations sake.’

                ‘If you’re tired of being a gym leader, resign,’ Blue said, after a pause. ‘And that goes for Red as well. If he hates his mantle as Champion so much, then just drop the whole thing. He’s the one who beat me and took it.’

Sabrina laughed. It was a chilling, empty laugh – and she and her gym had been plenty creepy before, when they’d first battled. When he’d first lost. ‘Some things you can’t escape so easily,’ she said. ‘Do you think anyone would respect the Champion who sat on a cold and empty throne? And do you think anyone would leave a Champion who absconded in peace? Isn’t this a poor world who depends on its Gym Leaders, on its Elite, on its Champion – even if all of them are ultimately puppets of the current state.’

Blue frowned. No, the masses would never leave them in peace. He was okay because no-one knew. He hadn’t sat on the throne for long enough. But Red… Everyone knew of Red. Knew he’d defeated Lance. Knew he’d taken the throne as one of the youngest leaders in history.

But Red had also said he was powerless. Lamented his powerlessness. Despised it – and cooked up this entire scheme to shake the foundations of Kanto so he could change it.

Sabrina shrugged her shoulders. ‘You can have the world’s power at your fingertips and still be powerless if people don’t want to change. But people are opening their eyes now – even if Team Rocket has been amongst us for years. It’s simply a pity… about Erika.’

                ‘Pity?’ Blue repeated. ‘Six people die in a fire, including one of your fellow Gym Leaders, and you only call it a pity!’

                ‘It is a pity,’ Sabrina sighed, ‘because it wasn’t what anyone had planned at all.’


	18. Unheard

Blue had no more direction than before Sabrina had found him, but he'd wandered into Silph co before he'd realised it.

That place… He hadn't set foot in there the last time, pouring with Rocket Grunts, but Red had. He'd trampled all of them, freed the president and earned himself a prize and released the monopoly grip they'd had on poke-ball supply. Now it was sparse - or perhaps it looked that way when he imagined it littered with black.

It wasn't littered. There was scientists going about their daily jobs and barely looking at him. They only acknowledged him to step out of his way to the elevator and once inside, he wondered which floor he wanted to go - or why he wanted to go at all.

Another worker got in and decided for him.

They rode in silence all the way to the top floor.

The scientist, in her white coat and hair and face covered by a cap and mask, led him down the hallway and to the President's office. 'Inside,' she said, her voice muffled.

Blue followed.

Evidently, he'd been set up. He wondered if that was Sabrina's doing as well - or if he gave her too much credit. Maybe they all gave her too much credit. Maybe people expected too much of the greatest psychic they knew of.

Maybe they expected too much of the Champion too, when they only saw the chains that kept them trapped once they were in that role. Maybe that was what Red was thinking. How could he answer the cry of the people when they'd backed themselves into a corner and wouldn't crawl back out by themselves?

The president sat behind the desk. Blue only knew him because he'd seen his face on the news, announcing the Ultra balls. He looked older now. Maybe that was a side-effect of getting tangled with Team Rocket and going on with his life afterwards.

'Blue Oak,' said the president.

'Blue Oak,' the scientist echoed – and then she removed her mask and cap. Her short black hair tumbled forwards. Her red-rimmed brown eyes stared at him sternly.

'Erika…' Blue breathed. He could hardly believe it. So she'd escaped after all.

'Are you happy?' she asked. 'You don't know me; you've only battled me once and gone on your merry way with my badge in your case. And my girls that died… You don't know them, do you? Or those Rockets… Or maybe they're one and the same. Do you know?'

'Red would do something stupid like that.' Blue couldn't believe it hadn't occurred to him earlier – because the playacting had been too good.

Erika smiled bitterly. 'They were real. This time, at least, they were real. But that didn't stop them from dying. That didn't stop my garden from burning, or being stained with blood. I didn't sign up for that.'

She moved past the president and to another door at the back. 'Follow me,' she said. 'Father?'

'I'll wait here,' the president replied.

Blue followed here, up to the roof where a battlefield awaited.

'I have only one pokemon,' Erika said, facing away from him. 'The rest of them burned.'

'I'm… sorry.' Because what else could Blue say? What else could he do?

'Send out your Arcanine.'

His heart jumped into his mouth at that. 'W-why Arcanine?'

'It and you both…' She turned to face him. 'Did you hear the screams of what you turned to ash? Did Red?' In the wake of his silence, she added: 'I ran, because if I did not, I'd burn as well. I'll go back, one day, probably when the world has settled into its new normalcy and the ash and blood have blown away. When I won't get roped into something again. 'Maybe I won't be a gym leader. Maybe it won't be Celadon I go back to. But still, fireworks in the sky and beautiful petals at my feet – it could have been a wedding but you and Red have turned it into a funeral instead.'

Blue didn't understand. Not at all. 'Do you hate me?'

'Hate a trainer's inability to control a confused pokemon?' She laughed and it sounded just like Sabrina's laugh. Was the whole world so disillusioned? 'No, but you played a role in it anyway. This will be laying those ashes to rest – or the memory I look upon when those ashes are ready to rest.'

Erika was too whimsical, too metaphorical. He was sure that some of what she meant was going over his head. But that didn't matter. She wanted him. And Arcanine, against the one pokemon of hers that survived the flames.

He remembered the shadow he'd seen on Celadon's streets.

Erika released her Vileplume from its poke ball.

Blue released his Arcanine.


	19. Hyperthermia

It was unfair. It was cruel. It was –

Reality, and Blue could only chase after his Arcanine before he met the same fate as it. And Erika stayed on the roof: the cold flower princess and the president behind his desk, calling for him to wait –

Silph Co hadn't developed a way to remotely return pokemon to their balls yet, had they? Then he wouldn't stop.

He ran and ran and ran but there were only the blurs of people – faceless, nameless people.

Where was Arcanine?

And someone calling his name. Insistent. Following.

He was busy. Unless they mentioned Arcanine in the same sentence, he'd pay then no heed.

Then he found him. Those blasted Pidgey circling overhead like they were doing him a favour and maybe they were.

Or maybe they just wanted to rub it in.

Blue collapsed at its feet. His head spun. His head ached. His body wouldn't stop shaking.

'What the hell?'

That voice still sounded far away. And unimportant. Floating in his mind.

'Who did this?'

Oh. It was Red. And he sounded pissed.

Giovanni probably had gotten to face this Red in all his glory. Not many people could seriously piss Red off.

Then again, the world had done a grand job of doing that itself.

Which reminded him… Blue staggered to his feet again.

'Blue?' Red asked. His voice was sincere. His eyes were bright in horror and the start of tears.

Blue drew back and punched him in the face.

Red barely moved. 'Blue?' he asked again: slowly, as though talking to a spooked Taurus – no, a spooked Eevee hiding in a corner somewhere. A Taurus could hit harder than that but why did his body feel so slow.

And why was Red swaying like that?

'Erika…' he said. His voice sounded like roaring water in his ears. 'Said to tell you… the meaning of life… the fire – ' Bile crawled up and he stopped.

Was that Red's teeth grinding in anger? That made his head ache worse. And the world swayed and he sunk to his knees again.

There was a blue blob in front of him. But that was his name. And Arcanine. He needed to check on Arcanine. He had something, didn't he?

He fumbled for the straps on his backpack but he couldn't manage that. Not even a simple action like that…

'Blue! Blue! Damn it; she poisoned you too…'

There was something between his lips but they felt numb as well and the world was a mesh of colours.

Why wasn't Arcanine in those colours? Or Red?

.

'Blue. Blue! Damn it, answer me already…'

Somewhat was insistent. And shaking him. Or was he shaking? Or where they both shaking?

Dancing in the street? Ridiculous.

'Come on, open your eyes.'

Odd pressure on his body, on and off. It felt like a log, all stiff and numb. And his head hurt. And his throat. And his muscles, like he'd struggled all the way through Victory Road. And he was burning. Like taking the Victory Road in _summer_ and sweating off the heat and shaking from exhaustion and he'd pushed and pushed and made it all the way through only to lie in the garden outside because he couldn't take another step...

Something pushed into his mouth. He couldn't breathe around it.

'Swallow.'

He just gagged instead and then it was gone and he could breathe again.

'… the hospital, if he can't swallow a berry…'

'… pity antidotes don't work on humans…'

'… the Champion, can you believe?'

'Glad to know some people have their priorities straight.' That was Red, still seething with rage.

That was bad. Red was always reckless when he was mad. But why in the world was he mad. 'Lost again?' Damn it, why was his throat so raw? What in the world had happened, anyway.

'Blue…' Red's voice shook. 'I'm sorry, but between the poison and the fall, Arcanine is… We're just lucky Toxic isn't as potent in humans but you still –'

Arcanine. Poisoned. Blown off the roof.

_Maybe then he'll finally learn to respect life._

'That's on… you,' he croaked. Where was Red going, blotting out like that? 'For trying to… shake the world.'


	20. Colourless

Everything looked washed out when he woke up.

Maybe it was because the walls and the linen were all white. Or maybe it was because everything had been burning before that. Arcanine. Then before that the gym and he’d fled from that place and Arcanine was the price he’d wound up paying for it.

And Red. He remembered Red being there – or had Red been a toxin induced illusion instead? The poison had gotten them both, in the end. But he was sure Arcanine wasn’t. His mangled, still body on the curb was just…

Blank. White. Washed out.

Maybe it had to do with the drugs creeping up is arm. He hadn’t realised that before.

                ‘At least you’re not the type to pull IV lines out. The doctors are glad.’

He looked up slowly. Red was there. He looked muted too, even if he was wearing his usual clothes. It must’ve been the expression, or that heavy aura that clung to him. ‘We couldn’t find Erika,’ he admitted.

                ‘…that’s good,’ Blue said, after a pause. ‘She’s mad.’

                ‘Obviously,’ he snorted. ‘What the hell was she thinking? No pokemon she has could crush Arcanine like that. Even if the poison probably was her handiwork.’

                ‘It was a bunch of Pidgey…’ Blue said slowly. Should he be this talkative? This calm? It probably was the drugs. And the shock. It was a nice feeling though: this washed out numbness. It wasn’t going to last though. He was pragmatic enough to know it wasn’t going to last. ‘She ordered them around like they were her own pokemon but she specialises in grass types. And her Vileplume used Toxic, obviously.’

                ‘Obviously,’ Red echoed. ‘Erika is a gym leader. She should know better. And, on top of that, she wants to see this rotten government torn down and the world changed.’

Blue laughed. Red stared at him. ‘Some people don’t care for how you’re changing the world,’ he said to his old friend. ‘Setting the gym on fire? You and I are both guilty of it, but people died in that fire. Pokemon died in that fire. Do you know the reason why Erika did what she did? She said you need to appreciate life – and though she didn’t say it, she probably meant I need to appreciate it as well. After all, it was my pokemon she went after. Not yours.’

                ‘Only because she knows its suicide to face the Champion.’ Red’s face had twisted into a glorious frown. ‘Appreciate life, huh. And she expects me to do that after killing a friend’s pokemon? After killing a friend and rival of my own pokemon?’ He shook his head. ‘People want change, and then they balk at what it means. She’s free from her responsibilities now but she doesn’t see that. She doesn’t see what she’s gained. Only what she’s sacrificed.’

                ‘Sabrina said she doesn’t care, either,’ Blue said thoughtfully – though it sounded even to his own ears more like a monotone. ‘People want the world to change but they’re only happy if someone else is making the sacrifices. And you’ve taken it upon yourself to make those sacrifices and dragged me along in your mess.’

Red considered that. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said sincerely. ‘But this just proves things _do_ need to change. I’d bring Arcanine back if I could.’

                ‘You can’t.’

                ‘Obviously. Being a Champion isn’t much, in the end. But Erika’s still going to pay.’ Even if he had no idea where to find her, and mobilising the League meant admitting his own part in the fire and he couldn’t do that. Not yet. Not now.

Blue closed his eyes. His heart was floating about, probably, because he didn’t feel much anger towards Erika – or even Red. ‘Arcanine’s not going to come back,’ Blue repeated. ‘I’ve got lots of other pokemon, but they’re mine and they’re different from each other and now I have to tell them that, in part because of something I did, Arcanine’s gone.’

                ‘I know,’ said Red quietly.

                ‘…it’s still not sinking in.’

Red was silent at that. What could he say? What should he say?

He’d wanted his boiling anger to scald Erika and give her third degree burns but Erika had been nowhere to be found.

                ‘Do you remember the Pokemon Tower?’ Blue asked suddenly. ‘The ghost of the Marowak. Team Rocket. The graves of all those pokemon.’

                ‘Arcanine as well?’ Red asked.

                ‘I should, shouldn’t I?’ Blue looked at the drip. ‘How long?’

                ‘As long as you need,’ Red replied, even if the furrow of his brow gave his impatience away.

He’d put that aside, for now. He wasn’t the Champion, but Blue’s childhood friend – and his friend needed him right there, at least for now.


	21. Luciferin

Their journey to Lavender Town was slow but nothing happened. It was like the world had screeched to a halt – or perhaps they simply saw it thus.

Arcanine wasn't even the first pokemon Blue had lost. That had been raticate – also because of Red, funnily enough. That battle on the SS Anne and his medical supplies hadn't been enough to get them all back to Viridian.

But that had been his fault too, because he'd wanted to be the strongest and he'd had to choose between his pokemon – and so he'd chosen the weakest of them.

And then he'd gone to the Pokemon Tower to apologise for a decision he never should have made – and yet couldn't help but make because otherwise he could have lost them all – and battled Red again.

That was their relationship. Always battling. Always trying to surpass one another – and destroying things around them in the process.

Now he wondered why he'd goaded Red into a battle there of all places. It was practically sacrilege – for Raticate, and for the other pokemon that had died in battle and been entombed there. Was fighting against Red that important, that he danced on his partner's grave and let a gym burn? Why did they clash so spectacularly – except in times like this when they could walk side by side without something exploding in the middle.

But this… This was wrong. And he knew why. Guilt was the cloud over them and the peace the silver lining. They were the flint and the wood, but the sparks they created when together were dormant instead of catching light.

They weren't like this. Hadn't been like this since kids, before their pokemon and their words: before they had anything to throw at one another. They were friends, yes, but this was what their friendship masqueraded as.

It felt weird, walking silently, side by side. It felt weird, that even with Umbreon and Pikachu out, there was nothing more than threatening sparks and growls and that was when flocks of Pidgey flew overhead. Wondering if they were Erika's Pidgeys, no doubt. And if it hadn't ended the way it did, Blue might have marvelled how three puny Pidgey had taken down such a large Arcanine.

Erika, who'd seemed like such a weak Gym Leader before, had proven a powerful and dangerous snake – or rose with thorns.

And the Pokemon Tower, the final resting place for all dead pokemon and where she awaited them... What would that turn out to be?


	22. Panoramal

Lavender Tower was full of all kinds of spirits. Vengeful spirits that had been pushed too far. Crying spirits that had been left alone to waste away. Sad spirits who’d left fond memories behind.

It attracted the ghost pokemon. It was one of the few places in Kanto where they could be found, though apparently there was another haunted tower in Johto where the ghosts also dwelled. That was a different sort of tower though: a tower wrought with tragedy and myth and legendary beasts that had burned in a glorious blaze…

Lavender Tower was where the dead were buried, and no-one knew why. They simply were. And the tower honed the ghosts like a beacon. Ghosts that were pokemon. Ghosts that were just bodiless spirits: the personification of lives once lived… or formless grief.

Blue had never put much stock in those tales, until the first time he’d visited Lavender Tower and felt that chill sink deep into his bones.

This time his bones ached, remembering that chill.

Red let him go first. Was that a flashback to how they’d both been, that first time? Or was it out of respect, to let Blue pay his respects to his pokemon before Red followed. Or maybe Red was afraid. He might’ve teased him about that, before. It was the perfect opportunity, really, to tease him about it. But Lavender Tower was far too sombre. Almost every trainer who came there brought death with it. And then there were the ghosts…

But where were the ghosts? They’d gotten up three floors in silence. Not a single trainer challenged them. Not a single wild pokemon appeared from the gloom.

That made the tower seem even more haunting than when a ghost would appear beneath their feet.

Maybe they were scared of Pikachu, sparking away on Red’s shoulder.

Ghosts scared of a little mouse. That was kind of pathetic, even if Blue knew Red’s Pikachu was no laughing matter.

And when the thunderbolt Pikachu suddenly sent off cracked the gravestone from behind which Erika emerged, she saw it too. And the look in Red’s eyes that promised retribution, as the pair of them were swept up by the confrontation.

The ghosts were afraid, probably, of a champion who could so single-mindedly focus on destruction, even if he’d started it with good intentions.


	23. Overflow

They followed Erika to the soft bushy overgrowths near the top of the Tower.

It was interesting, how the mountain curved in to provide that: to support the tower and all the ghosts it nursed, as though helping it reach the sky and the afterlife that lay beyond it. And the garden… Who was that for? For the visitors who grew overwhelmed amidst the dead and the sorrow? Or for the dead themselves who wanted a breath of fresh hair after drowning so long?

And Erika… Why did she choose outside as her battleground? Because she was the mistress of the gardens and the grass-type Pokemon? Because surely she would know that was no advantage against a trainer with a fire-type when the fire could burn it all. And she'd seen her precious greenhouse, that had weathered many fire-type Pokemon and fire-type moves, burn to the ground so why should this place, hovering at the edge of a tower of graveyards, fare any better, especially when faced with the better part of both sorrow and rage.

Blue and Red. Their names were ironic, now. Then Erika was green: the green of some sickness that Red hadn't yet grasped. Or maybe it was more or less than that. The Erika now was vastly different than the one he'd battled at the Gym, but she even then was vastly different to the one he'd fought last year. People changed, that was natural, but there was something about Kanto that made those changes seem so drastic.

Maybe that was that something in the League that twisted even a happy go lucky guy like Red.

And if Blue had been Champion for longer, would he have warped into something unnoticeable as well?

Red pushed forward, Pikachu still sparking on his shoulder. Blue stayed where there was nothing green beneath his feet. Shouldn't he be the one facing Erika? Erika had every right to face Red but Red was facing Erika in Blue's stead… and that was a right mess, wasn't it?

Blue was sure his Pokemon would be rattling in their balls if they could see this scene.

No… They  _were_  rattling in their balls. They knew.

Then Erika turned to face them, and there was something in her eyes that made Blue think that he was the blind one. The grass rustled, like it rustled on the routes because there were wild Pokemon even in a place like this.

No wonder the ghosts weren't inside the Tower. They were here, with Erika. They were the wind as well, perhaps. It was hard to tell; they were invisible under the sun but they were chilling and oppressing and, in her eyes, swirling and bubbling like a pot about to bubble over –

Or maybe it was already bubbling over. Grief fed grief, after all.

It was getting colder.

Pikachu left off Red's shoulder and unleashed a Thunderbolt at the grass in front of them. It burnt to a crisp instantly, but nothing scurried.

Ghosts, then.

Erika said nothing, did nothing. Just stared with her bottomless eyes, drowning in spirits.

Blue shivered again. So did his poke-balls. Red's Pikachu glared at Erika, then at him. Red didn't turn around at all.

Why was Red's Pikachu glaring at him? He was Red's best friend, for Arceus' sake! Red who'd always been a step behind until he somehow wound up a step ahead. Red who'd been the most cheerful guy on the planet until his personality did a one-eighty on the throne while Blue's confidence plummeted to rock-bottom after getting kicked off it. Red who was suddenly carrying too heavy a burden and was looking for help to carry it after his back had already broken from the strain, all while Blue did some soul-searching and seemed to find nothing soul-related at all.

Sure, he knew more about the affairs of the League and Kanto, now, but as far as his own soul went…

Really, all he'd accomplished was losing Arcanine while he chased old Gym battles and the cryptic comments of the Elite.

Red and Erika stared at each other. Pikachu stared at Blue.

Blue stared at all of them, and the invisible wind that blew the grass: fresh and charred.

_Why did I come here?_

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is written as a part of the Too Many Cooks Challenge on the Pokemon Fanfiction Challenges Forum. As a part of this challenge, me and my partner-in-crime The Light's Refrain will be alternating between writing drabbles set in a world we're sharing. Our world is what happened between the space of Red defeating Blue and becoming Champion, and Red being in Mt Silver at the end of GSC/HGSS. Since I'm starting us off, Light's collection is called Red to Crimson, and available only on fanfiction. Remember to read both fics to get a full understanding of this world. I'm doing the Blue portion of things; Light's doing the Red. Our titles are also the prompts given by our partner, so Light gives me all my prompts, and I give Light all hers. This also means that updates are dependent not only on my inspiration/writing, but hers as well since we're alternating. So I write one, she writes one etc.


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